Maybe
by Cat-writes-what-she-wants
Summary: He, slowly, oh so slowly, goes away right in front of her. (He's not the first.)
The feeling is burnt to her fingertips. How he turns into thin air. How he, slowly, oh so slowly, goes away right in front of her.

(He's not the first.)

His warmth lingers for a second after he is gone. It's the cold that snaps her out of it.

The villain doesn't last more than five minutes after that.

* * *

It rains in the day of the memorial.

(There are no bodies to be burried.)

The names are almost all from Françoise Dupont.

(There are so many names it feels like a curse not to have hers on there.)

 _Alya._

God, how she misses her best friend.

(The Ladyblog's last video is one of the woman coming at her. It was live.

Her littlest sisters don't understand the fact that she's gone.)

 _Nino._

She misses him. They had been friends since they were _nine_.

(His father finds a letter to Alya. It had been written that morning.

He clutches it as he traces his son's name.)

(The radio he worked at part-time is silent for an hour the day after he's gone.)

 _Chloé_.

She didn't really deserve it. None of them did.

(The Mayor is drowning in his tears. He has no other family left.)

 _Sabrina._

(Her father and mother hold each other for dear life. They are childless parents.)

 _Mylène._

(His father is torn apart. He sings to himself quietly, as if his daughter would hear.)

 _Ivan._

(He has a younger sister. His mother doesn't let go of her.)

 _Kim._

(His older brother is all alone now.)

 _Max._

(His three older sisters are crying. His mother couldn't get out of bed that morning.)

 _Juleka._

(Her parents leave a rose under her name. They don't have any pictures of her.

Marinette will give them one. Her mother breaks in that moment.)

 _Rose._

(Her mother looks as sweet as she did, but sadder. Much, much sadder.)

 _Nathanaël._

(His father doesn't let go of his sketchbook. It's the first time he has touched it.)

 _Alix._

(His brother is leaning on his father. On his hand, a pocket watch is held. She had left it at home that morning.)

 _Adrien._

(Gabriel Agreste is on flesh in front of the memorial. He holds back his tears and thinks of his mansion. It's not home anymore. It hadn't been for a really long time.

He blames himself.

He's not wrong.)

She goes back to his smile. His laugh. She goes back to their very first meeting.

She goes back to thunder.

( _Coup de foudre_ )

(She goes back to when he was washed in green light before she could close her eyes.)

The only name that is not in there is Marinette Dupain-Cheng's.

She doesn't make it. She can't, not as Marinette. But she has to be there for another person.

 _Chat Noir_.

Out of everyone that is there, crying, sobbing in front of the Eiffel Tower, she's the only one who is there for him.

(Only family and close friends.)

She doesn't have an umbrella. The rain and her tears fall as one down her cheeks. The sobs that make her shoulder shake are broken, emerging from the deepest part of her chest.

Chat Noir is not coming back.

(Neither is Adrien. She mourns both sides of him in that day. The shy one, the bold one. The blond one, he would have laughed.

She cries harder.)

Someone is screaming from a few feet away. They're crying and hitting anything that gets too close, cursing Hawkmoth.

(Cursing her.)

* * *

There are whispers.

 _"_ _Wasn't that Marinette girl Adrien Agreste's girlfriend?"_

(She was.)

"Shouldn't she be mourning him?"

(She _is_.)

* * *

She gets home before her parents.

She drops her transformation and, without the strength of the suit, she falls to the floor next to her bed.

Tikki caresses her cheek. She's crying, too.

(Plagg, a being as old as time, as old as her, is gone. Tikki almost wishes she could be gone, too)

Her parents give her space.

Let her mourn. Let her cry.

* * *

The memorial always has flowers.

She always leaves three kinds. I miss you, for her classmates. You are always on my mind, for Alya. For Nino.

I love you, for Chat. For Adrien. For the boy who was both.

(He always gets the three kinds.)

* * *

 _She's young. She will get over it._

Can you get over the death of the love of your life?

Maybe.

(But probably not.)


End file.
